There's a reason David O. Russell's latest is called The Fighter instead of The Boxer (well, besides the fact that that title was taken). It's not just a movie about a boxer; it's about one man and three pivotal people in his life, and any of them could be the fighter of the title. They fight opponents, each other, their circumstances and their own worst instincts. On its face, the film is the fact-based story of "Irish" Micky Ward (Mark Wahlberg), an aspiring boxer in Lowell, Mass. Micky's trainer is his half-brother Dickie Ecklund (Christian Bale), once the "pride of Lowell" for knocking out Sugar Ray Leonard (who cameos as himself), now a cadaverous crack addict who nonetheless keeps up a stream of chatter to rival a high school debate team. He's managed by his mother Alice (Melissa Leo), a micromanaging Diet Lady Macbeth who is constantly trailed by her seven daughters (one of whom- Fun Fact- is played by Conan O'Brien's sister). Preparing for a fight in Atlantic City that gives him a shot at the big time, Micky meets Charlene (Amy Adams), a barmaid who thinks his family is doing his life and career more harm than good; she's seemingly vindicated when Micky takes a spectacular beating after his opponent doesn't show and Dickie and Alice coerce him into fighting a much bigger replacement. Charlene attempts to help Micky make it on his own terms (TM), which unfortunately coincides with Dickie hitting bottom, not only landing in prison after a fight with the cops, but realizing that the HBO crew, ostensibly filming a documentary about his "comeback", have actually been documenting his worsening drug addiction. As Micky starts winning again, he's faced with a choice between not only family and Charlene, but his dream and the moral obligation he feels to take care of Dickie.
First things first, Bale is every bit as phenomenal as everyone says; he spent the latter half of the 2000s in a lot of roles that didn't allow him much emotional range, but this performance reminds us that the guy did, after all, play Patrick Bateman. On the one hand, Dickie's addiction makes him alternately infuriating and pitiful; on the other hand, we see how, even at his lowest, he's still got a lot of natural charm to fall back on, as in a brilliant little scene when Alice drags him from the crackhouse he floats in and out of and he calms her by singing the Bee Gees' "I Started a Joke" as they drive away. The Oscar is already all but his for this. Leo is great too, essentially playing an American, slightly nicer version of Jacki Weaver in Animal Kingdom. Adams is especially revelatory, and she might be Oscar-bound too: they clearly already love her, they also love deliberately de-glammed performances, and, oh yeah, it's a damn good performance, too.
Wahlberg's performance has been dismissed as the weaker of the four, but I think that's a misinterpretation; sure, it's understated comparatively, but that's who Micky Ward is in the context of the story. He's a reactive character, which is why it's compelling to watch him pursue his dream, because simply going with what's best for him is not something he really knows how to do. I had similar thoughts on Naomi Watts' performance as Valerie Plame in Fair Game; it's not underacting, it's just the nature of the character to be less flashy than those around them.
Russell, of Three Kings and I Heart Huckabees, does a great job of directing (despite some disconcertingly anachronistic musical choices), particularly the fight scenes, shot deliberately in the grainy style of early '90s HBO fights; Micky's final fight in London with Liverpudlian Shea Neary is a wonder to behold. The Fighter is a great story told well, and pulls off something hard: it takes four regular people and the lives they lead and shows us exactly why we should give a shit.
